I don’t throw up my dinner, but I do stay on the floor for a long, long time, my thoughts an endless loop of what-ifs. Reality and fantasy blending until I’m not sure I’m remembering the last few months correctly at all.
The biggest player in the National Hockey League wanted me?
I’m not so sure about that.
I’m not so sure about anything anymore, and by the time I curl up into a ball on the couch, I’m not sure I know who Nico Tremblay is anymore.
CHAPTER 27
NICO
In a seaof black dresses and somber faces, I don’t see Jo anywhere. I scan the room again, craning my neck to see over the crowd. The small church is packed, and after taking an early morning flight, I’m exhausted, but it’s worth it to be here with Jo.
If only I could find her.
I have exactly eighteen hours before I need to be back at the arena in Philly for our game against Seattle, and I came with literally only the clothes on my back, my wallet, and a bouquet of pink and white roses. I made my rideshare stop, hoping I could find sunflowers, but at this time of the year, the florist looked at me as if I had two heads.
Keeping those flowers close to me so I don’t accidentally ruin them, I make my way through the crowd of mourners. A few look familiar to me from Granny’s party. I spot Danny with his wife. I assume the baby she’s holding is theirs. Jo’s dad stands close to them, appearing bored as ever.
But still, I can’t find Jo.
With my attention focused to my left, searching for a dark head of hair and Berry Queen lips, I bump into someone. I turn to apologize but stop myself when I realize it’s Waylon.
He appears to do the same, so we end up glowering at each other.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, and I huff.
“I’m here for Jo. Why’d you think?”
He shakes his head, lip curled up in a sneer. “To put on some kind of show.”
“A show?”
“We’re at her great-grandmother’s funeral. The least you could do is not act like it’s a fucking joke.”
I force a flat laugh. “Gonna curse in a church? Nice.” When he doesn’t back down, I suck air between my teeth, keeping my temper in check. I got into a brawl last night on the ice, but I wouldn’t mind another one, except for the fact that Jo wouldn’t like it. “I don’t know what your deal is, but you need to back up. You’re crushing the flowers I brought.”
He glances down then takes one step back, barely giving me room. “Why are you really here?”
I roll my eyes up to the ceiling, swiftly losing patience, and I take a deep breath before I meet his eyes again. “Look, I know you and Jo had some complicated thing when you were kids, but that’s over now. Whatever claim you think you have on her is done. You made your choice, and Jo is with me now. So you can tuck your tail and go back to the other Atkins sister. Stop trying to piss a circle around Jo because I’m not a dog. I don’t respond to this pretend alpha BS, and she’s not a possession you can exchange at will. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find myfiancée.”
He doesn’t move. In fact, he checks his shoulder into mine when I shift to walk around him, and I barely hold myself back from knocking his teeth out.
“I don’t trust you,” he mutters, and I shoot him a pleasant smile.
“Same goes.”
With one last silent threat and a jut of my chin, I continue cutting through the throng to the opposite end of the room,finally spying the woman I’m here for. With her back to me, she’s gazing at the open casket, and I make my way to her, slipping my hand into hers. She startles at first then relaxes a moment later, but she leans away when I bend to kiss her cheek and end up pressing my lips to her temple instead.
“You all right?” I ask, and she shrugs, rubbing her shoulder along her jaw. Wrapped up in a thick black cardigan and her long hair covering her face, she’s hiding once more.
I offer her the flowers. “I’m sorry, Jo. I wish I could do more. I know you loved her very much.”
She accepts the flowers, chin trembling, then walks up to the casket. I go with her, taking in Granny. I only met her that one time, but I liked her. She was a rare and strong woman, and the only person in this entire family to see Jo for who she truly is—rare and strong like her. I bow my head as Jo places the flowers on the casket then touches Granny’s hands before returning to my side. I drape my arm around Jo’s shoulders as we make room for others to pay their respects.
Reverend Parsons calls for attention to begin the service a few minutes later, and we take our seats behind Mamaw, Tonya, Ron, and a few other family members in the first pew, while Lizzie, Waylon, Danny, and his family are in the second. Jo and I are alone in the third.
And seeing it from Jo’s point of view, it really is like we are singled out. Both in the spotlight and under a shadow. All through the prayers and sermon, Jo stays still as a stone. When I lift my hand to wipe away her tears, she again shies away.
